


Oh Brother

by Seanbiggerstaffrox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, But it's not really like a slash story, Danny is gay, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Jackson Feels, McCall feels, Mostly Stiles-centric as it goes on, Mystery, Stiles and Scott POV, Stiles is Bi, Stilinski feels, There will be same-sexness in here, Unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:26:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seanbiggerstaffrox/pseuds/Seanbiggerstaffrox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Scott were looking forward to their freshman year of college, especially since they'd be rooming together. It all starts out well enough, until Scott joins a fraternity and then things get…weird.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Brother

**Author's Note:**

> This was very heavily inspired by A Change is Gonnna Come by hawthorn_sybil (waytotheend) which can be found here:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/553576/chapters/986748  
> Unlike that story, this will not be a slash fic. At least, I don't think so. There will probably sex and maybe some light romance (homosexual and heterosexual, because Danny deserves lovin' too and Stiles is Bi.)

**Chapter One: College**

Stiles parked the jeep, sharing an excited look with Scott as he shut off the engine. From his vantage point in the passenger seat, Scott looked up at the building that would house him for the next year, a familiar sense of wonder filling him. They were at college. That would never not be weird to him.

They both exited the vehicle – a remnant of home that had tagged along in their new life as college students, somehow familiar and surreal in its way – and moved to the back, pulling out cardboard boxes. They’d been here already, had stayed in the dorm for a bit over the summer during orientation, so they knew their way around well enough. Still, it was weird. 

“So, fraternities?” Stiles prompted, grabbing a box marked ‘clothes.’ They hadn’t actually thought to label whose, not that it particularly mattered. They were used to sharing.

“No.” Scott said automatically, grabbing a box marked ‘shoes.’

“What, come on dude? Why not?” Stiles asked, following Scott into the dormitory. Scott’s breath got heavy as he ascended the stairs, wheezing slightly from exertion.

“I don’t want to do fraternities.” He gasped out, stubbornly refusing his inability to breathe. He would not be defeated by stairs. “I told you, I have to concentrate on classes.”

“You can do both.” Stiles protested. “All I’m saying is, we should totally embrace our college experience. Getting out, meeting new people, going through horrible orientation rituals verging on abuse – come on, it’ll be fun.”

“This is all because you watched Greek.” Scott said, taking in a deep breath when they emerged on the second floor and into the dorm hallway.

“It was vital research. I needed to know what we were getting into.”

“It’s a TV Show. College isn’t like that.”

“How would you know?” Stiles countered.

Scott screwed his face up in confusion. “Well my mom said-”

“Dude, you’re gonna listen to your _mom_?”

“Well she’s usually right.” 

“Yeah, she’s also your mom. Do you remember what my dad said before we left?”

Scott’s face crinkled as he thought. “You mean that long lecture-”

“Where he recounted every college murder that ever happened and all the ways we could get kidnapped,” Stiles interjected. 

“And how to avoid getting kidnapped, what to do if we get kidnapped,” Scott continued for him.

“And then gave us a lecture on rape and date-rape drugs?” Stiles finished. 

“Yeah. Isn’t that just more reason to avoid frat parties?” Scott asked, turning down a second hallway that would lead them to their assigned room. 

“That’s not my point, man.” Stiles huffed.

“Then what is your point?” Scott asked, unlocking 214 and pushing the door open. 

The conversation stilled as they stood in the doorway, staring at their new living space with a familiar sensation of awe and surprise.

It wasn’t very large – barely big enough for the both of them and bound to be uncomfortable once the novelty wore off – nor particularly nice, and there was no kitchen or living room or anything that would allow them to confuse it for an actual place to live or something other than a college dorm, but it was still theirs for the time being. The white walls were bare (a place form the to put _their_ posters) and the twin beds were naked (a place to put _their_ bedding, and thank god for Mrs. McCall and her suggestion to bring some) and the beds themselves were framed by empty cubbies and neighbored with empty desks, just waiting to be filled with Stiles’ and Scotts’ things.

The carpet was dark blue and seemed in good condition and the sidewall had large windows, offering a view of the campus and giving the room an illusion of space. There were blinds that didn’t look terribly affective. Maybe they’d get curtains. And a mini-fridge for the corner. And wouldn’t that just be odd – going shopping for appliances with Stiles? But it was nice. It was a nice thought. And shit, they were living together, in college, like two actual grown adults who were interacting with the real world. 

“Wow.” Stiles muttered.

“Yeah.” Scott breathed, still recovering from the realization that they were here. He’d known it, cognitively, but even on the drive over it hadn’t felt real yet. But now…  
It was an odd mix of terrifying, exhilarating, and oddly tragic. He missed his childhood. Not enough to go through it again, but still. 

They stood in silence, letting the moment wash over them.

“My point is,” Stiles finally said, moving past Scott and into the dorm room. Scott followed behind dazedly. “Our parents aren’t exactly going to be encouraging us to have, you know, fun. If they had their way, we probably wouldn’t even be here.”

Scott set his load down between the cots, straightening to stare skeptically at Stiles.

“Come on, man. Don’t you want a little bit of excitement in your life?” Stiles said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Scott’s shoulder, looking into his eyes and bending his head close. “At least give it a shot, okay? We’ll go check out some frats, play some beer pong, maybe meet some hot chicks, and if we don’t like it, no harm done.”

Scott let out a sigh. “Fine. But I really think this is a bad idea.”

“Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Did you pay any attention during your dad’s lecture?” Scott asked.

“Are you kidding, he’s given me that lecture since I hit puberty. I have it practically memorized.” 

They went back down to the jeep and Stiles opened the trunk, eyebrows raising in surprise. “Dude,” He said, pulling one of the boxes forward and flipping it open, pulling out the object he hadn’t noticed earlier. “You brought the baseball bat?” He asked, holding up the implement and looking at Scott incredulously.

“In case of predators.”

“Seriously though, have you ever even played baseball?” 

**Line Break**

Two weeks later found Scott sitting cross-legged on his bed, playing idly with the zipper of his red hoodie as he pored over his chemistry textbook. 

“What’s a mole?” He muttered to himself, jiggling his legs and feeling cool air rush against his skin. His mom would probably weep at the state of his pants – old and faded and torn at the knees. She’d begged him, before he’d left, to let her buy him some college clothes, but he’d declined. He wasn’t sure of his reasoning now, but he was comfortable enough, even with the coolness of fall coming a bit sooner here than it did in Beacon Hills. 

Stomach grumbling, Scott shoved a Cheeto in his mouth, emotionally prepared for the inevitably of getting cheese powder all over his bedding, and turned the page, chewing absently as he tried to process all the chemistry he’d either forgotten or hadn’t learned in the first place. 

The first week of classes had been rough and not at all what Scott had expected. High School being his only reference, he’d been under the impression that he’d have more time to learn the material and that classes themselves would be a bit more relaxed. As it happened, everything went fast. Too fast, for him. 

He only had classes on certain days, as opposed to the sweeping, five days a week, from morning to afternoon, without fail, schedule that had been in place before. Less time should have been a good thing. It really wasn’t. Because now he had a chemistry test when he’d only been to class twice and couldn’t understand a word the very intimidating Professor Harris had said. And yeah, there were office hours, but Scott had classes during Harris’ office hours and even if he didn’t, he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to talk to the man. 

Scott was chewing nervously on one of the strings of his hoodie, Cheetos forgotten, when the door burst open and an out of breath Stiles ran up to him, his backwards baseball cap lopsided on his head and his cheeks flushed. 

“Dude.” Stiles said, dropping his backpack and straightening his cap. 

Unlike Scott, Stiles had gotten new clothes for college, though Scott only knew because Stiles had definitely but on muscle since freshman year of high school, and there was no way his old blue plaid button up, white t-shirt, and light brown pants would fit him. Even though this outfit looked identical to the one he’d worn his first day at Beacon Hills High. 

Stiles, Scott realized, was sort of ridiculous. 

“What?” Scott asked. 

Scott, Scott realized, was also sort of ridiculous, because he was fairly certain he was currently wearing the same exact outfit he’d worn his first day at Beacon Hills High. 

“You’ll never guess who I just saw in the hallway.” Stiles gasped out, resting his hands on his knees and taking rapid breaths.

“Who?”

“Jackson.”

“What?” Scott shot up from his bed, staring at Stiles in disbelief.

“Yeah dude, he’s out there right now.” 

Scott walked over to the door, Stiles following behind, and peaked behind it. “This is so not fair.” He muttered when he spotted Jackson, dressed impeccably in a tight, blue Henley and dark pants, leaning against the wall and talking amiably with a tall, tan man. Scott recognized him from his English class. Roscoe? His name might be Roscoe. His name was probably Roscoe.

“What do you think he’s even doing here?” Stiles hissed, hovering over Scott as they both peered through the doorway. 

“Torturing us?” Scott suggested. 

“Torturing you, probably.” Stiles murmured and Scott shot him an irritated look. “Hey man, he was always after you, not me. Well, a little me. But mostly you.”

“Yeah, back in Beacon Hills where your dad's the sheriff. Your dad's not the sheriff here." Scott argued and Stiles blinked, looking down at him as he processed this. 

“You think Jackson’s gonna try something?”

“It’s Jackson.” Scott replied and they shared horrified looks. 

“But we’re in college now.” Stiles argued weakly.

“It’s Jackson. He’s been torturing us since elementary school.” 

“Shit.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Scott murmured.

“Hey, Stiles, McCall!” Jackson’s voice carried across the hallway. 

They both jumped, stumbling over each other as they straightened up. 

“Shit, close the door dude.” Scott hissed and Stiles slammed it shut, locking it for good measure. They still didn’t miss the scoffed “Losers” that came from the hallway. 

“Still a douche then?” Stiles said, leaning against the door. 

Scott nodded, puffing out an irritated breath. “Yeah, still a douche.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was really going to wait to post this until I had more done, but dammit, I'm really excited about this and wanted to put it up now.


End file.
